Meghan MacLaren: “Golf can be the perfect escape”

Ladies European Tour star Meghan MacLaren talks about how the theraputic nature of golf has something to offer everyone. 

On one of my trips to the US, I was practising at a quiet and relatively exclusive course one Friday evening. That particular week was a family holiday in the US, so the golf course was even more deserted than usual. (Perhaps the opposite to the UK, where we seem to flock to golf clubs at any opportunity).

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The small group of us there suddenly spotted a black security van parked basically on the driving range, prompting us to ask who the previously innocuous looking man and small child hitting balls were. One of the girls with our group was local, and told us offhandedly that it was the governor of that particular state.

Meghan MacLaren and sister Rebecca.

If you’re unfamiliar with US politics (and I wouldn’t blame you), the governor of each state has a lot of power – they are effectively equivalent to our prime minister in their particular location. Most laws are set state-to-state, rather than unilaterally by the American president. That’s all just to say that this person on the empty driving range was a pretty powerful and recognisable figure. While I might not agree with his particular brand of politics, I don’t envy any politician in the slightest – in today’s environment especially, they have an almost impossible job.

It struck me, watching someone who faces criticism and chaos every day, the beauty of golf clearly being his calm place, his escape. In my world, golf provides calm and chaos in equal measure – an inevitable curse of doing something you’re addicted to for a living. But for this man, in his world, golf offers solace. It offers him a time to be with his young son, without questions or motives, without venom or scrutiny. I might not like him, but I appreciated what this sport has to offer and the diversity of people it can offer it to.

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Of course, it goes without saying that golf could be more inclusive. It could certainly be more affordable, less pretentious, more relaxed. More equal in opportunity and visibility; among race, economic status, gender and sexual orientation. It certainly does not lead the way. But its essence is all-encompassing.

A president and a school kid could both stand for hours on a driving range, hitting ball after ball with ever-increasing frustration, wondering where that elusive feel is that created the centre-struck series of shots last week. A president and a school kid could both be on the verge of calling it quits for the day, when that final ‘just one more’ suddenly connects to the sweetspot, sending a 4-iron piercing through the air. A president and a school kid could both, just for a second, think they know how Henrik Stenson must feel after every iron shot.

Henrik Stenson hitting an iron.

I sometimes wonder why so many people put themselves through 18 holes of golf on a cold Saturday morning, with no prospect of shooting anything lower than the mid 80s. I think back to when I was young and not very good at all, and wonder what made me stick with it. I don’t remember getting addicted to this game until I was a bit older, when I truly grasped the never-ending layers of improvement it has to offer. But I did stick with it, even before I realised that. Before I stayed awake at night looking at frame-by-frame images of my swing, trying to work out if my club face was at a 0.1 degree difference to a swing from two years ago. Before I would pause a film halfway through to check a percentage in my stats against a percentage on the PGA Tour, because once it was in my head I couldn’t let it go.

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I fell in love with golf before I really knew it. Somewhere in between those reluctant trips to the driving range, or Saturday morning lessons that I couldn’t get out of, and summer junior opens where I would be the only girl in a sea of scary-looking boys. I can’t put my finger on when it happened, or why, but I think it’s that elusive quality that defines the relationship every single one of us has with this sport. That search for something better, something within us that we think might be there.

The humbling we all face just when we think we might have figured it out. It gets all of us, for good and for bad. Whether we work every day to try to average under par, or we get dragged out a couple of times a year just to keep in touch with some old friends. It simply doesn’t matter whether we’re a president or a school kid. There’s a place for us all.

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